Isidora’s POVThe last time I saw Billy, I was twenty-two and still pretending my feelings for him were academic. He was hired to help me with stats-rigid, logical numbers but nothing about him felt simple or clinical.Now, three years later, I stood outside his front door, dressed in a fitted silk blouse and jeans that clung like intention. I wasn’t here for tutoring anymore. I was here for something else.I had replayed the email he sent last week a hundred times.> “Isidora. Heard you’re back in town. Come by sometime. Let’s catch up.”Catch up. Two words soaked in suggestion, or maybe it was just me projecting everything I still wanted from him.He opened the door before I could knock.Billy had changed and not at all. His hair, longer now, curled slightly at his temples, dark and thick. His stubble gave him a rough edge that hadn’t been there before. But his eyes… those knowing, unreadable eyes, slate gray like a storm about to break...those were the same.He looked at me like he
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